


The Inception of the Secret Sex Club

by QueenThayet



Series: The Secret Sex Club [3]
Category: Inception (2010), next big thing
Genre: Arthur's feral sexuality, Banter, Coming in one's pants, Community: inceptiversary, M/M, Next Big Thing HGTV Universe, Or trousers, fanfic of a fanfic, kink bingo, so meta it hurts, why they would need a secret sex club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 17:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7582444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenThayet/pseuds/QueenThayet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why did Arthur and Eames start a secret sex club to begin with? Arthur's feral sexuality is out of control. Eames decides that being in public is not the best idea. Set before the other two stories in this series, but probably best read after them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inception of the Secret Sex Club

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Next Big Thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349583) by [earlgreytea68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68). 



> This is for the Inception Kink/Trope bingo square "Coming in one's pants" and is written as in-'verse fanfic for EGT's Arthur and Eames as stars of HGTVs Love it or List it and Next Big Thing.

**The Inception of the Secret Sex Club**

_A/N Warning: This is RPF for Arthur and Eames from LIoLI and NBT and it is basically just porn. So if that’s not your thing, the exit’s on your left. This is a little bit of a departure, since mostly I’ve been doing a sort of “Arthur and Eames at home behind the scenes of NBT” thing, but after writing “The Second Rule” I inspired myself to rewatch that video of them at the club in New York. And then I had to write this. Because holy shit, if Arthur danced like that against me, I’d probably come in my pants too! Arthur4SexyDancing! I’ve mentioned my head canon for why they would start a secret sex club, so I thought I’d explore that a bit more. With porn. :D_

* * *

 

“Clubbing, really darling?” Eames asks, skeptically.

“I like clubbing,” Arthur responds defensively. “I’m not always a stick-in-the-mud. I can be fun." 

“I know you can be fun, darling, you’re lots of fun. I just didn’t realize you liked _this_ kind of fun. Aren’t we a bit old for this?”

Arthur raises an eyebrow, “If you don’t want to go, just say so. You don’t have to be insulting.”

“How is thinking that you’re older than a college student insulting? Isn’t that the whole point behind your impeccably gelled hair?” Eames shoots back.

“I wasn’t planning to gel my hair when we went out.”

“In that case, yes darling, let’s go clubbing,” Eames reaches for Arthur’s hair to run his fingers through it.

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll look like a letch hitting on a college student, Mr. Eames?” Arthur teases, dodging out of the way. 

“That’s a risk I’ll just have to take, darling. Now come here and let me muss your hair.”

 

* * *

 

They arrive at the club dressed down. Arthur is wearing jeans that are quite frankly obscenely tight, but do amazing things for his already amazing arse. His white t-shirt is very thin and tight and his hair is free of its normal gelled confines, loose and wavy. Eames has to stop himself from dragging him back into the cab and taking him home to ravish him. Because Arthur wanted to go clubbing though, so clubbing they would go. Eames knows he’ll be able to drag Arthur home before too long.

They stop at the door when the bouncer asks for Arthur’s ID. Eames puts his hand possessively on the small of Arthur’s back and glares at the bouncer as he holds up Arthur’s drivers’ license and gives him a long appreciative look, his eyes sweeping up and down Arthur’s delectable body. He neglects to ask for Eames’ ID.

“Oh my god, apparently you _are_ the creepy old guy,” Arthur giggles.

  
“He was just using it as an excuse to check you out,” Eames grumbles, wrapping his arm around Arthur’s waist.

“Are you jealous, Mr. Eames?” Arthur teases with barely suppressed delight.

Eames declines to answer the question.

“I’ll just have to make it clear that you’re the only one that I want.” Arthur presses himself against Eames quickly, before turning and grabbing Eames’ hand. “C’mon, let’s grab drinks.”

* * *

 

Two drinks in, Eames has stopped glaring at anyone who dares to ogle Arthur. Mostly because _he_ can’t stop looking at Arthur. Or touching Arthur. The beat is thumping and Eames can feel it deep in his chest, along with the fluttering he feels whenever he thinks about the fact that he’s dating Arthur. Arthur chose him. The way Arthur is dancing, rubbing his luscious arse against Eames, holding Eames’ hands against his hips, broadcasts his choice to anyone else looking. 

Eames can feel his cock hardening at the friction Arthur is providing. Arthur can apparently feel it too, because he turned around so that he’s facing Eames and smirks as he ghosts his palm across the front of Eames’s trousers. “Fuuuuck,” Eames gasps, feeling his cock twitch toward Arthur’s deliberate touch. “Darling, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea,” Arthur responds, the slight hitch in his breath the only sign that he’s not as in control as he seems. He slots his leg between Eames’ and presses his body against him, grinding to the beat. Eames grabs Arthur’s delectable arse, pulling him even closer. Eames isn’t even sure this could be called dancing anymore, but he doesn’t really care. All he can think about is the feel of Arthur’s arse under his hands, the tormenting friction against his cock, and Arthur’s tongue tracing the outside of his ear.

The song changes, and Eames takes the opportunity to shift the angle a bit, so that he’s rubbing up against Arthur’s rock hard cock. He licks Arthur’s neck, before sucking a hickey at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. One of his hands drifts up Arthur’s back, feeling the sweat-soaked t-shirt, and then back down, attempting to insinuate itself into Arthur’s trousers. 

“Christ, Eames, you’re going to make me come in my pants,” Arthur moans quietly into Eames’ ear. Instead of stopping, Arthur pushes Eames up against the wall, grinding harder against him.

“Darling, from what I feel, you’re not wearing any pants, I think you mean trousers” Eames teases. 

“Fuck you,” Arthur says without heat, before capturing Eames’ mouth. Eames lets him dominate the kiss, lets himself be pressed up against the wall, lets Arthur grope and touch and rub all over him. Eames is panting by the time Arthur lets up. Arthur steps back slightly, staring, dazed, at Eames’ very visible erection. Eames reaches out and pulls Arthur back to him, thrusting against him in a way that can no longer be confused for dancing. Eame ignores the small voice in the back of his head that tells him that he should stop, that this is not appropriate behavior in public, that he’s a TV personality and absolutely should not be engaging in this sort of lewd behavior. Instead he kisses Arthur hard, letting their tongues battle for control, arching up against Arthur, running his hands possessively up and down Arthur’s lithe, fit body. Suddenly, Arthur sucks Eames tongue into his mouth and Eames’ hips buck hard as he comes in his pants (which he is wearing under his trousers).

“Fuck!’ Eames exhales against Arthur’s mouth.

“Did you just...” Arthur arches an eyebrow.

“You’re a bloody menace, darling.”

“Fuck that’s hot.”

“Let’s get home before we get citied for lewd behavior. Thank god I wore dark trousers.”

“We’re definitely coming back here,” Arthur announces firmly.

“Fuck that. I’m turning one of the downstairs rooms into a dance club. Then I can just pop upstairs for fresh clothes the next time you shove me up against the wall and suck my tongue the way you suck my cock.”

“Mmm, that works too. Now take me home, Mr. Eames. Some of us haven’t gotten off yet.”

  
“Of course, darling.”


End file.
